The Indomitable
by JonWilhoit
Summary: The Magistracy of Canopus faces anihilation at the hands of the newly formed Star League. Success means they stave off the inevitable for a few more months failure, means the galaxy's last beacon of freedom is snuffed out of existence.
1. Default Chapter

**The** **Indomitable**

**Part I**

_MAF Command Headquarters_

_Dunianshire_

_Magistracy of __Canopus_

_March 10th, 2588_

From its high vantage point, the camera had a clear view of the _Zeus_ BattleMech, its lumbering form clad in the blue and white colors of the Star League Defense Force. It strode deliberately forward toward a battered _Clint_ as the smaller machine desperately tried to limp away from the inexorable behemoth. The _Zeus_ closed before the other 'Mech could flee and lashed out with its foot. The blow buckled armored plating on the _Clint's_ right leg, delving deep into the ankle of the already wounded 'Mech. The limb's internal structure snapped like a toothpick, and the crippled machine crashed to the ground.

The _Zeus's_ pilot didn't give the _Clint_ a chance to stand again as it leveled its particle projection cannon at the prone 'Mech. The following discharge of man-made lightning tore into the _Clint's_ chest, burrowing deep into the 'Mech's vital innards. The shielding on its fusion reactor ruptured, and the inferno contained therein boiled forth, erupting in a brilliant explosion that blossomed upward from the shattered _Clint_ like a blooming flower.

The picture wavered as the _Zeus_ turned toward the camera. It paused as if recognizing the unobtrusive observer for the first time and then raised its arm once more. In the blink of an eye, a cascade of azure energy overtook the camera, and the picture degenerated into static.

Sitting in the darkened command room, Magistrix Floral Centrella sighed. "Turn it off, I've seen enough."

The room's only other occupant frowned. "Magistrix, there is still more tactical footage left. If—"

She cut him off with a disheartened wave of her hand, "Damn it Adam, I know what happens. It's the same thing that happened on Brixtana—the same thing that happened on Palm—the same thing that happened on Joyz. It's the same thing that happened on Canopus IV, for God's sake. We fought tooth and nail for months, and still another world fell. We're not going to learn anything we don't know already from watching our troops get slaughtered over and over." She sighed again, looking away from the screen.

Senior Colonel Adam Buquoy paused a moment, then nodded. He shut down the projector and brought the lights back up. The Magistrix seemed lost in her own thoughts, but he selected a manila folder from the pile before him and slid it across the table to her anyway.

"If you care to know, the man in that _Zeus_ was General Anton Zhukov of the SLDF 7th Corps. If our intelligence is correct, he will be the one to lead the coming assault on Dunianshire."

"What's the matter with Marik?" Floral asked sarcastically. "I thought he'd want to be here for the last hurrah."

Buquoy shrugged, "From what I've heard, the Captain-General is attempting to smooth things out with some of the other worlds, get them indoctrinated into the Star League government. I doubt he believes we will put up much of a fight, otherwise he'd be paying more personal attention to the matter."

"Well, he's in for a surprise, now isn't he?" Floral said grimly. She picked up the folder, pushing aside her despairing thoughts as she reviewed the dossier.

After a moment she tossed the file back onto the table, fixing the aging colonel with a green-eyed stare. "This is garbage," she said irritably. "A bunch of statistics isn't going to do me any good. Give me the breakdown of it all--something I can actually use. What's the man like in battle? How does he relate to his superiors?"

The colonel sighed and ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "Very well. From what I've heard, the man is a bulldog. He has been accused of war crimes in two different instances since the beginning of this campaign, but neither case resulted in disciplinary action."

Floral frowned, "What happened with the war crimes issue?"

"The first instance took place on Sheuerheck. He ordered the summary execution of five hundred prisoners for 'crimes against humanity' or some other nonsense like that."

"Ironic."

Buquoy nodded, "Yes, especially given how Ian Cameron renounced the tenants of the Ares Conventions six months later. Anyway, the second occasion took place on Eleusis shortly after that. The bulk of our forces had already retreated off-world, but several insurgents remained behind to sabotage supply lines and infrastructure once the Star League forces took hold."

Floral nodded, "Yes, I remember that."

"The first major attack our units undertook resulted in the destruction of a supply depot just outside the spaceport. In retribution, Zhukov ordered an orbital bombardment on the planet's largest population center. An accurate death toll still hasn't been tallied, but it's estimated to be in the tens of thousands."

Floral swore. "He was the one that ordered that?"

Buquoy nodded, "Yes, but Marion Marik has kept him on a tight leash since then. Evidently the Captain-General is more concerned with the region's political stability after the war than Cameron is. That said, Zhukov isn't much for subtlety. His ideal battle plan would be to simply meet us face to face on open ground and pound us into submission."

She nodded, "Well, lets not give him the chance, hmm? All right then, we'll have to assume he is leading the assault. How many dropships did you say were inbound?"

"Over a dozen."

"How long will it take for them to make planet fall?"

"If they continue at their 1G burn, five days."

Floral gave a humorless laugh, "The ides of March . . . "

"Hmm?"

"You know, Shakespeare?"

"I know the man, but I'm not familiar with the reference."

She dismissed it with a wave, "Never mind, it's nothing. What is their projected landing zone?"

"It's a preliminary guess right now, but it appears that they will make planet fall about a hundred kilometers from the spaceport. They'll be using the Illian Plains for a staging area, then advance the main column over the highlands toward the spaceport."

"Well how do you suggest we respond? Do you think we should continue the hit and run tactics? They seem to have worked well enough in the past."

The colonel shook his head, "It might prolong our defeat, but it won't last forever. By the configurations of the incoming dropships, Zhukov is projected to have two full 'Mech regiments with another two regiments of conventional armor support, not to mention aerospace assets. A sustained guerilla operation would do nothing except prolong the war."

Floral gave a humorless laugh. "And here we are with barely two combined arms regiments and less than a battalion of 'Mechs in it all."

Buquoy nodded, "With those forces, we may be able to harass him for a considerable length of time, but we won't be able to deal the crippling blow necessary to defeat him."

"What about a full assault then, an attack on the flank? If we can hit him in the middle of his formation, we might stand a chance at splitting his forces in two."

Again Buquoy shook his head, "It won't work. He will be able to detect any sizable force massing and simply advance his troops toward our position. We wouldn't be able to sneak up on his flank in enough numbers to do considerable harm."

Floral gave a forlorn sigh, leaning forward to cradle her head in her hands.

The colonel paused a moment before speaking. "There's another option."

She looked up at him, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "What?"

Buquoy took a deep breath. "Magistrix, forgive me for asking, but have you considered surrender?"

A look of surprise framed her face before it quickly coalesced into a mask of anger. "What the hell do you mean, surrender? You want me to just give up and let Ian Cameron win? Let him lord over the Magistracy just like he has with the rest of the Inner Sphere?"

"Magistrix, please—"

She cut him off before he could finish, "My grandmother founded this realm _because_ of egotistical bastards like him. Entire families have relocated here to get away from the Sphere for that very reason. They come to the Magistracy so that they can have the freedom to live on their own terms without house lords or emperors ruling every facet of their lives. Our people have fought, and bled, and died for this nation, and now you want me to throw all of that into the wind and just give up?"

"You don't need to tell me what we've gone through the last eleven years. I know the sacrifices our people have made. But at least consider it. Dunianshire is the last of our worlds. We have no chance of defeating Cameron and nowhere to run. Even if we were able to overcome the 7th Corps, he would only send more troops to do what the others could not. Throwing more troops into the fire now is as good as signing their death warrants."

"Cameron has already killed millions," she retorted angrily. "What's a few thousand more to that madman?"

"It's a few more lives that don't have to be lost in a hopeless struggle. If you proceed down this course, you'll only be throwing more good after the bad. Please, don't make all of those deaths meaningless."

That comment seemed to sober her. She exhaled slowly, lifting her eyes to his. "Adam, I appreciate your input and your concern, but surrender is not an option. If we were to give in now, _that_ would render all those deaths meaningless. We founded this league on the values of freedom and self-determination, holding close the idea that every man has the right to choose his own destiny. If we won't fight for those rights, if we won't die for them, we might as well have never believed in them at all."

Buquoy licked his lips, searching for something to say but found nothing.

Floral looked at him sympathetically, "Go home and get some sleep, Adam. We can finish this tomorrow. It's been a long day for everyone."

The older man nodded wearily and bent over to gather his things. "Good night, Magistrix," he said, heading for the door.

"Good night Adam. Sleep well."

He nodded and slipped out the door into the hallway beyond.

----------

After Colonel Buquoy left, Floral retired to her office. It was a temporary affair, nothing like the government headquarters on Canopus IV, but small salvaged mementoes still managed to make it seem hers.

She passed into the dim room, pausing a moment by one of the picture-laden walls to gaze upon a photograph of a younger Floral standing at the foot of her _Thunderbolt_ BattleMech. She smiled fondly, admiring her image with no small measure of nostalgia. The picture showed a young woman possessed of dark, glossy hair and smooth olive skin. Her green eyes sparkled with youthful vigor and enthusiasm, and her athletic body practically screaming soldier.

Those days seemed like a lifetime ago. Shortly after that picture was taken, the Magistracy had been hurled into war. Two years into the conflict, her mother had passed away, leaving Floral at the helm of the beleaguered nation. It had been a running battle for survival ever since.

She had entered the office of Magistrix as a vibrant young woman, but after years of battle, that vitality faded. She still tried to maintain her youthful figure, but it was a losing struggle against the insurmountable will of time. Her hair was now shot through with gray, and her face had begun to wrinkle with worry lines. What's more, the lively spark of her youth had departed to be replaced with a hardness tempered by the flames of war.

Floral shook her head sadly, turning away from the image of the past. She moved around her desk and sank into the leather chair behind it. Her eyes fell onto the family hologram sitting next to the computer. She and her husband Marcus sat behind their young daughter, hollow smiles plastered on their faces for the benefit of the camera. The war had strained the relationship between the two of them nearly to the breaking point, but she knew he understood the sacrifices that had to be made. Their daughter Gloria was another matter. The three year-old simply couldn't understand why her mommy hardly had any time for her anymore.

Floral wanted so badly to just go home, to latch onto both of them in a fierce hug and simply forget about the war if only for one night. But she couldn't, not while the nation she had struggled to maintain for so long was crumbling around her. The Magistracy was facing utter and total defeat, and for the life of her she couldn't think of what to do. No matter what plan she ran through her mind, it all seemed futile in the face of such insurmountable odds.

Perhaps Colonel Buquoy was right. Perhaps the best solution was simply to surrender and confront the inevitable. Surrender made sense from a logical standpoint, but the prospect of it made her stomach turn with revulsion. It made no sense to throw away lives in a losing battle, but capitulation would be as good as acquiescence to Cameron's tyrannical rule. She simply couldn't bring herself to let her nation bow before that glutton of a man.

Floral found herself wishing that her grandmother were still here. Kossandra Centrella had founded the Magistracy in 2530, had forged a galactic power from a group of disparate worlds on the edge of known space through simple grace and tenacity. If she were here now, Floral was certain the war would have been different. But she wasn't, and the war was still as bloody as ever.

She reached over and picked up one of the plaques that sat on her desk. Her grandmother had commissioned it in commemoration of her graduation from the academy back in '73. It was one of the only things Floral had to remind her of the departed matriarch. She ran her fingers along the inscription, reading each word with slow deliberation. Her grandmother's final words stuck in her mind as she read them aloud.

"From the Battle of Thermopylae, to the Russian Revolution, to the founding of this very state, the greatest conflicts of history have been born out of the human need for freedom. A fire burns in the heart of every man and woman that not even the oppression of the great houses can quench. As long as you live, serve your nation with all of your heart and strive to keep that sacred flame alive."

Kossandra's words were an inspiration—to think that her grandmother had thought enough of Floral to entrust her with such a solemn charge. Those words helped to steel her resolve, to convince her that the path she had led the Magistracy down was the right one.

But there was something else, some inkling in the back of her mind that there was something more to the grand statement. And then it hit her: Thermopylae.

In a rush of inspiration, she pushed the plaque aside and hurriedly began tapping out commands on her computer. She forgot her weariness, forgot her hopelessness, and even forgot her thoughts of surrender as piece by piece, a plan of battle began to form.


	2. Part II

**Part II**

_MAF Command Headquarters_

_Dunianshire_

_Magistracy of __Canopus_

_March 11th, 2588_

Magistrix Floral Centrella seated herself at the head of the conference table, taking a moment to look over the various faces and uniforms of the Magistracy Armed Forces senior command officers that had already found their respective seats. She smiled warmly in their direction, "Thank you all for meeting me so early this morning. Everyone has been burning the late night oil recently, I know, and I appreciate all of your efforts; however, there is still work to be done, especially concerning the coming assault on Dunianshire. That is why I have called you here today."

The officers shifted forward in their seats, giving the Magistrix their full attention.

She folded her hands on the table, pausing a moment before posing her question. "Have any of you heard of the battle of Thermopylae?"

Admiral Carr spoke up hesitantly, "I believe it was a battle on ancient Terra, but beyond that I'm not quite sure."

Floral smiled, "Well Admiral, you're right about that. I couldn't recall much more about it off the top of my head either, but I did some research last night. You see, back in the 5th century B.C., the Greeks on ancient Terra were being invaded by the Persian Empire. Thirty of the Greek city-states met in Corinth to decide how best to approach the crisis. They couldn't gather a large enough army in time to face the massive Persian military, so instead they chose to send a smaller force north in a holding action to give them time to prepare the rest of their troops.

"King Leonidas of Sparta led the Greek army of ten thousand men north to face the Persian force of over two hundred thousand soldiers. Leonidas carefully selected the site for the coming battle, knowing that King Xerxes of Persia thought he could overwhelm the Greeks with his vast numerical superiority. After some deliberation, Leonidas chose a mountainous northern pass called Thermopylae. There had once been a stockade and small fort constructed on the site, and he directed his army to reconstruct those defenses, leaving only a small gap in the pass open.

"When the Persians finally attacked, the Greeks were able to hold against the formidable army because the Persians could only position a small portion of their forces in direct contact with the Greeks, eliminating their numerical advantage. For days on end, the Persians threw wave after wave of soldiers at the Greeks, but still their lines held firm."

Colonel Elisa Vasquez raised her hand, "Excuse me Magistrix."

Floral paused, looking over to her, "Yes?"

"This little history lesson is fascinating and all, but what does it have to do with the situation at hand?"

Floral nodded, "A fair question, Colonel. Allow me to explain."

She tapped out a few commands into the keypad on the armrest of her chair, and the table's integral holoprojection unit winked into life. A topographic map sprang up over the table, various shades of green and brown coloring the different elevations of the terrain. A red square highlighted a large portion of the mountainous region in the center of the map.

"Now," she said, tapping out a couple more commands, "General Zhukov's forces should be landing here on the Ilian Plains to set up their staging area." Several red chevrons appeared in the designated area to the west of the highlighted square. "Their main objective will most likely be the spaceport, where the bulk of our forces are concentrated." To the east, one large blue chevron popped up, surrounded by several smaller ones.

The map zoomed in on the highlighted area, providing a more in-depth view of the terrain. "This is the Carson Valley, a portion of the Highlands between us and the projected landing zone. As you all may or may not know, Carson Valley is the only pass through the highlands at this point large enough to accommodate heavy ground assets. If we can lure Zhukov's forces into position here, I believe we can effectively reduce his numerical advantage much like the Greeks did at Thermopylae." She gestured to Admiral Carr, "Granted, we would need what's left of the 2nd fleet to harass their dropships and aerospace assets so that they can't lift off and cover Zhukov on the ground, but I believe we could severely bloody the SLDF forces."

Murmurs went up around the table, several officers nodding their approval.

Colonel Buquoy cleared his throat above the din, prompting everyone to silence. He folded his hands on the table, "I believe the Magistrix has overlooked one fundamental flaw with her plan."

Floral raised her eyebrows in surprise, "Oh? Then by all means, please elaborate."

"How do you propose to get Zhukov into position? The man is not stupid. I doubt he would willingly march his forces into a situation where we could eliminate their numerical advantage. If he refuses to advance through the pass or takes an alternate route, what are we going to do then?"

Floral shook her head, "I appreciate the concern, but I don't think that is going to happen. Colonel Buquoy, you yourself said that Zhukov is a bull. He'd rather rush straight into the fight and pound us into dust than take the time to maneuver around the conflict. If we provide him with a large force to concentrate on, I don't think he'll take terrain into account. He'll simply meet us head on."

Buquoy nodded, though he didn't seem to agree with the assessment.

"Now, does anyone else have any other objections?" she asked, looking the table.

No other voices rose in protest.

Floral slowly surveyed the gathered officers. They were exhausted and weary, trampled and downtrodden, and more than a little desperate, but their eyes belied a stalwart determination tempered by the fires in their souls. They were set behind her cause—set behind _their_ cause, and they were ready to see the struggle through to the end. She couldn't ask for a better group of men and women to fight by her side.

Floral allowed herself a grim smile, "Good then. We have a lot of work to do. Call up what forces you have at your disposal and ready your logistics networks. I'll be in touch with all of you later to determine what further steps need to be taken. Until that time, you're all dismissed."

The officers stood and began filing out.

----------

The Magistrix left something out. Colonel Buquoy hadn't said anything in the briefing because he didn't want to tip his hand, but he knew more about Thermopylae than he had let on. What she said was true, that was certain, but that was only half of the story.

When Xerxes realized he couldn't fight his way past the Greek force defending the pass, he sought an alternative way around. With the help of a disenchanted Greek farmer, elements of the Persian army threaded their way through the mountains and began to mass at the Greek rear. When King Leonidas learned that they had been surrounded, he ordered the bulk of his forces to retreat further south. He and three hundred loyal hoplites stayed behind to hold the line as Persians closed from both north and south.

The stalwart Spartans flew into combat with abandon, but they were fighting a losing battle. After hours of fierce fighting, King Leonidas was finally killed. His men fought their way to his body, retrieving their slain monarch and carrying him back to their fortified position. Xerxes demanded their surrender, but none of the fierce warriors would capitulate.

In turn, they died to the man.

Buquoy sighed, leaning forward on his desk. If the old adage was true, this didn't bode well for the coming battle. But then again, history didn't repeat itself. People repeated history. Just like Leonidas of Ancient Greece, Floral Centrella was leading her army into a battle they couldn't hope to win.

She had to know the war was over. Most of the other senior officers had come to that conclusion as well, but they wouldn't say as much to the Magistrix. Any rational being could tell that there was no point in fighting anymore. The only thing that would come out of continued conflict was more blood, except this time it would be on their hands, not Cameron's. Floral Centrella was stubbornly clinging to the hope that she might somehow be able to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. She was a fool—a noble fool, but a fool none-the-less.

He would have to try to convince her to give up the plan before more of their people died. Somehow, though, he knew she wouldn't listen. He knew she would pursue her own death to the end, taking with her what was left of the MAF. And what's more, the rest of the command staff was content to stand aside and let her do it. He couldn't allow that—couldn't forgive himself if he just sat by and did nothing. But what was he going to do? Was he even prepared to do what had to be done?

The Colonel rubbed his eyes wearily, wishing there was an easier solution. But there wasn't one. He would just have to speak with the Magistrix, hope that his words would finally sink in. And if not, he would have to decide which outcome his conscience could bear: the deaths of his soldiers, or the death of his liege.


	3. Part III

**Part III**

_MAF Staging Ground_

_Dunianshire_

_Magistracy of __Canopus_

_March 15th, 2588_

Sitting in the command chair of her _Thunderbolt _BattleMech, Floral Centrella reached up to wipe the sweat from her brow. She replaced her hands upon the controls and twisted the Mech's torso to pan her vision across the dusty parade ground. Military vehicles of all kinds inhabited the makeshift staging area, some loading ammunition, some undergoing last minute repairs, and still others idling in wait. In the predawn light she could see the loosely organized ranks of infantry and the bustling technicians hurriedly moving between vehicles in preparation for the coming battle.

Everything was coming together nicely. The Star League forces should have been on the ground by now, setting up their own staging area. General Zhukov would no doubt be itching for a fight, preparing to move his troops directly towards the Magistracy's main formation and meet them head-on—just like she wanted him to. At the thought, a predatory smile crept onto her face.

The communications network buzzed for her attention; it was Colonel Buquoy. She keyed up the private channel, "Yes, Adam?"

"Magistrix, may I have a word with you?"

Though she didn't need to, Floral pivoted her 'Mech around to face Buquoy's _Hunchback _where it stood with the rest of her command lance. "Yes, of course. What is it?"

Buquoy was silent a moment as if steeling himself. "I would like to ask you to reconsider this offensive."

Floral sighed

"We may win this battle, but we've already lost the war," he continued.

"We've been over this before. I know the risk. I know what is at a stake, and I know the eventual outcome. But I don't give a damn."

"Please Magistrix, you have to see what I'm saying is true."

"It's not up for discussion. I won't let Cameron have the satisfaction."

"You're treating this like a personal vendetta against him," he protested. "It would be different if it was just the two of you, but you're drawing all of these men and women into the conflict too. They don't have to die needlessly."

Floral felt her previous hope degenerate into anger. "You think they would still be here if they thought so?" she retorted hotly. "Open your eyes, damnit. They're ready to die for what they believe in. Why aren't you?"

"The only reason they're here is because you ordered them to be—just like everyone in this army," he spat back.

"Oh, just like I ordered you?" Her voice took an icy tone. "If you feel that way, Colonel Buquoy, then leave. Climb out of your 'Mech and go find a dark hole to crawl into; hide while the rest of us face Cameron's lackeys and fight for what we believe in."

"You know I won't do that," he said quietly.

"Then why do you think the rest of them will?"

Buquoy couldn't answer that.

The Magistrix's voice softened, "Believe me Adam, I don't want them to die any more than you do, but the Magistracy is not a nation of cowards. We didn't bend to Cameron's wishes when he first tried to pull us into his Star League, and we sure as hell won't do so now."

Buquoy was silent.

"Now," she said, "If there's nothing else, we have a battle to win."

"Understood, Magistrix," he said stiffly.

"Good. Pass down the order that I will be addressing the troops shortly."

"Yes, Magistrix," he intoned before cutting the connection.

Floral sighed and sat back in her command chair. She knew Buquoy was right. The man was a shrewd tactician and one of her closest advisors. What's more, he was a friend. She trusted his judgment in everything—except for this. She didn't give a damn about practicality. Practicality went out the window when Canopus fell four years ago. This was about ideals. This battle was a statement. The periphery may have been a band of cast offs and rebels, but they would not be intimidated. She used that thought to fuel the fires of her soul, pushing the argument with Buquoy out of her mind.

The troops had undoubtedly been informed of the coming address because they started to form up in ranks, vehicle crews disembarking from their machines to stand at attention. Floral smiled to herself, admiring the zeal and discipline her troops possessed. A rush of pride struck her as she surveyed the army arrayed before her, every one of them standing tall with the knowledge of what they were about to do and the inevitable cost of the battle to come. Their resolve, their determination in the face of all odds, instilled her heart with the conviction that she had made the right choice. Her people stood by her, ready to face hell on earth and hell in the hereafter for the beliefs all of them held dear.

She reached down to switch on her external speakers, thinking of the speech she had written the night before. She momentarily closed her eyes to collect her thoughts and then began.

"Soldiers of the Magistracy Armed Forces, I bear tidings to you in this, our darkest of hours. As you all know, the enemy is no longer knocking on our doorstep. He has already battered down the gate and set about ravaging our beloved home. Ian Cameron, wanton egomaniac that he is, has set his famed Star League Defense Force upon our neutral nation. For eleven brutal years he has killed our fathers, raped our mothers, pillaged our lands, and now he seeks to enslave the children of this great nation under the iron fist of his vaunted Star League." She paused, letting the gravity of her words sink in.

"You all know your duties this day, as do I. You also know, that there will be no retreat. There can be no retreat, because there is nowhere to retreat _to_. We are surrounded by a determined enemy, one that has demonstrated his resolve to dominate this nation time and time again. In these dark times, a leader of less resolve—a lesser leader—might flee. A lesser leader might sue for her own survival, pay ransom to save her self from the coming onslaught. A lesser leader might cower in a bunker while the citizens of her nation fight and die for their country. But I am not a lesser leader. I stand and fight with you, the men and women I have come to love, brothers and sisters all." Again she paused.

"Our forefathers settled this great nation in hopes that their children could grow up free, liberated of the endless and pointless struggles of the 'great' houses. Now Ian Cameron seeks to destroy all of that, to absorb us into his empire. He offers us a place in his Star League, claiming that such a union will usher in a golden age for all of mankind. But Cameron has already demonstrated how hollow his words truly are, attacking this neutral nation under the banner of so-called "reunification." He promises peace and freedom, but all he offers is tyranny and oppression. He says he holds high the ideals of freedom and self-determination, but he ignores our cries for those very rights. This fascist megalomaniac cannot imagine a human world not under his control, and as such he seeks to absorb us into his hegemonic Star League through brute force. His armies have looted our worlds, slain millions of our kinsmen, and now they offer the same fate for us.

"You may believe this struggle to be hopeless. You may believe this is a battle that cannot be won. You may believe that the only thing to come of this battle will be more death and bloodshed. I will not lie to you my brethren. If we win the battle this day, Cameron will only send more troops to do what the others could not. If you wish to lay down your arms, to surrender to the bull that has trampled our nation, I will not stop you. Unlike Cameron, I acknowledge your sacred right to freedom. I do not seek to enslave you to my cause. You may do as you wish with no fear of retribution.

"But I, for one, refuse to go quietly into that good night. I would rather die free than live under the yoke of oppression, for life under tyranny is no life at all. Men are meant to live according to their own will, not the domineering force of an emperor determined to lord over all of mankind. If we die today, we die with the knowledge that the sacred light of freedom has not been snuffed out. We die knowing that though our bodies may be broken, our deeds live on in the memory of those left behind. The Ides of March may spell our doom, but I welcome that fate. We may die this day, my brothers and sisters, but we die free!"

----------

Colonel Buquoy looked on as the Magistrix's _Thunderbolt_ pumped its arm in the air. The other assembled 'Mechs imitated the action, raising their arms to the sky as the infantry below followed suit. Thousands of voices rose in unison, filling the parade ground with a chorus of cheers.

He couldn't believe how they could be so eager for their own deaths. They allowed themselves to become swept up in the tide of patriotic emotion, ignoring even the basic tenants of common sense. _They blindly follow her into battle_, he thought to himself, _willingly being led to the slaughter. It's the blind leading the blind_.

He had known Floral wouldn't change her mind when he asked her to reconsider. He had known, but he had to try anyway. And really there was only one decision left to him—one decision that could save the Magistracy's people from one more hopeless battle.

He activated his targeting gear, cycling through the weapons to the massive autocannon 20 mounted on the _Hunchback_'s shoulder. The targeting reticule slowly drifted toward the _Thunderbolt_, settling on the 'Mech's backside. It would be so easy. One shot and it could be done with. He could end this madness before anyone else had to die. His finger tightened on the trigger. One twitch and it would be over.

But could he do it? His heart warred with his mind, logic battling with conscience. Would he really kill the person to whom he had pledged a life of service? Or would he let thousands more die when he had the power to end this nightmare of a war?

The simple fact was he that could not bring himself to do either.

Buquoy released the trigger with a disheartened sigh and hung his head in shame.


	4. Part IV

**Part IV**

_Carson__Valley_

_Dunianshire_

_Magistracy of __Canopus_

_March 15th, 2588_

Floral peered out the cockpit canopy, trying to pick out any signs of movement along the wooded valley. Light from the noon sun glinted off of a stream in the distance, and trees along the valley's forested slopes swayed languidly in the breeze. No sign of mankind's interference could be seen. It would have been an idyllically pleasant day if not for the eminent conflict looming over the horizon.

Orbital sensor scans had detected a large force moving toward the valley but lost track of them as the satellite passed to the other side of the planet. According to the data it transmitted before it got out of range, Zhukov's forces would be arriving soon—all according to plan.

Forward scouts were stationed further along the valley, eyes and ears peeled for any enemy movements. Around her, ranks of heavy armored vehicles were entrenched along the valley. Infantry units had gone to ground, waiting for the right moment to strike, and BattleMechs had positioned themselves along the tree line to gain the maximum amount of cover they could.

Floral kept telling herself that they were as prepared as possible, but her nerves still gnawed at her. _Come on Zhukov, get on with it_, she silently willed.

She began to worry that he had figured out their plan, that Zhukov had realized the trap and decided to find another way across the highlands. This was the only shot they had. If this failed, there wasn't going to be another chance like it. There would be no victory—only defeat.

Then a voice broke in over the tactical net. "Contact, I have contact--A large force bearing nine degrees west by south west!"

"This is it, get ready!" she called out.

The scout swore, "Damn, we've been spotted! We're pulling out!"

Off in the distance, A pair of 'Mechs broke through the canopy of trees as they leapt into the air. They were swiftly followed with a withering fusillade of PPC and missile fire that tore through the space around them. Several salvos struck the trailing 'Mech, simply blasting it to pieces. The other BattleMech somehow weathered the storm and landed further off in the valley's dense vegetation.

A moment later, the 'Mech jumped again. This time Floral could see that it was a _Firestarter_, orange flame seething outward from its outstretched arm as it rose skyward. The consuming fires ignited the trees beneath it instantly, sending gouts of smoke billowing up into the sky. As soon as the 'Mech landed, it started the process over again on its way back to the main formation.

Undeterred by the flames, the _Firestarter_'s pursuers kept up the chase.

The first enemy unit to break through the foliage was a _Dervish_ painted in the blue and white colors of the SLDF. It started into a loping run after the _Firestarter_ but stopped as if sensing something was wrong. Floral didn't give its pilot time to figure out what that was. She clamped down on the trigger, sending a volley of fifteen LRMs streaking toward the enemy 'Mech. Other units joined the salvo as well, and the combined attack tore into the _Dervish_ with savage abandon. Whole sheets of armor were blasted off its body, and its left arm snapped, whirling away into the underbrush. Then the dervish came apart at the seams, fire exploding outward as its ammunition stores cooked off.

Floral smiled to herself, but her satisfaction was short lived. More SLDF units were already moving past the shattered _Dervish_ toward the Magistracy line.

"Fire at will!" she shouted into the command net.

The armored vehicles around her opened up, pouring munitions into the advancing force as they returned fire in kind. Tanks on both sides went up in brilliant explosions. An enemy _Ostroc_ took several hits to its leg and toppled face-forward on the ground. A blue and white _Griffin_ attempted to ignite its jump jets to rise above the wall of weapons fire, but an autocannon round cored through its torso to detonate the 'Mech's LRM ammo. The resulting blast rained BattleMech components over the battlefield, but still the tide of SLDF units kept coming. Soon the Star League force had closed the gap on the Magistracy army.

Floral snapped off a shot with her large laser at an approaching _Rifleman_. She didn't wait to see whether she hit or not and dodged to the side just as a return volley of autocannon shells tore through the air where she stood just moments before. The depleted uranium slugs slammed into the trees behind her, shearing away limbs in a shower of leaves and splinters.

An LRM carrier along the rear lines burst into flames as the crew scrambled to get out of the wrecked vehicle. "All troops forward!" she yelled, nudging her 'Mech into motion to fill the gap. The Magistracy units surged forward to meet the oncoming Star League Defense Force, vehicles on either side exploding as the volume of fire increased.

The 'Mechs at the head of the Star League charge barreled into the front ranks, zealously tearing through the Magistracy line. Floral triggered her lasers and LRMs at the _Rifleman_ she had traded shots with moments before. The shots scattered across its arms and legs as a volley of short-range missiles from a nearby tank joined the attack. Several missiles impacted along the 'Mech's chest, but others slammed into its legs, tearing away armored plating and coring into its internal structure. The attack must have damaged something vital because the _Rifleman_ stumbled forward, teetering precariously before it pitched forward and hit the ground.

A feral smile crept onto Floral's features. "Time to close the noose!"

As soon as she gave the order, small weapons fire erupted from the area around the charging Star League units. Previously unnoticed infantry came out of hiding behind the forward elements of the charge, peppering them with machine gun and laser fire.

Floral seized upon the enemy's momentary surprise as she surged toward them. "Charge!" The Magistracy forces followed her lead, throwing themselves at the forward elements of the Star League army.

Floral made for the downed _Rifleman_ where it struggled to regain its footing, its cannon-like arms braced against the ground. She triggered a burst of lasers and short-range missiles that tore through torso armor and into its internal structure. The 'Mech seemed unfazed as it continued its dogged attempts to stand up, but Floral wasn't about it give it the chance. She closed the short gap between the two 'Mechs and lashed out with her armored foot.

The blow struck the _Rifleman_'s left arm, bending the barrel back at an impossible angle. The 'Mech's pilot lost control of the machine and it toppled to the ground once more. Floral pressed the attack, savaging the torso once more with laser fire. She moved forward, momentarily hovering above the _Rifleman_'s prone form before stomping her foot down on its already weakened chest. Internal structure crumpled as the mechanized foot penetrated into the _Rifleman_'s innards. Instead of exploding outward as the blow crushed its fusion engine, the 'Mech simply died. Its limbs went limp as power ceased to flow through its systems, and its sparking innards winked out.

Floral had no time to savor the kill though, because soon after her 'Mech was buffeted by a blast of missiles. She twisted, centering her vision over the _Shadowhawk_ sprinting in her direction. She tried to bring her weapons to bear, but before she could fire, the _'Hawk_ staggered as a stream of twenty autocannon shells slammed into its side. She looked back to see Colonel Buquoy's _Hunchback_ striding purposefully forward, trails of smoke still lingering around the muzzle of its shoulder-mounted cannon.

The _Shadowhawk_ twisted and stumbled away, trying to find cover in a nearby stand of trees, but a combined assault from nearby units soon finished it off. The cockpit canopy blew off, and an ejection seat rocketed upward scant seconds before the 'Mech's torso blew outward in an all-consuming firestorm.

Floral paused a moment to look around the battlefield, the smile on her face growing. It was working. It was actually working. They had caught the SLDF by surprise, and they were beating them back. They just had to keep it up.

"Press the Attack!" she ordered, throwing herself back into the charge.

She centered her sights on a Star League tank desperately trying to escape the coming carnage. Her LRMs peppered its turret, flaying away already weakened armor. Then the large laser struck, coring through the last of its armor to gut its insides. A small flashe issued from within as it ground to a halt, smoke streaming from its ruined turret.

All along the front, Star League forces began to pull back, attempting to get into to the cover of the dense forest. A cheer went up as the Magistracy units leapt forward to give chase.

"No, stand down!" Floral ordered.

"They're in rout," one of the commanders protested. "We have to press our advantage!"

"That's just what they want. We can't give chase outside the valley—they'll tear us apart." She shook her head, "No, if they want Dunianshire, they're going to have to come to us. For now, tend to the wounded and effect what repairs you can. This battle isn't over yet."

----------

They had done it—they had actually beaten them back. Colonel Buquoy shook his head in disbelief. He knew the victory wouldn't last, but still—the troops were now even further entrenched behind the Magistrix's cause. _Fools_, He thought to himself for perhaps the fifteenth time today.Yes, they had won this skirmish, but they couldn't hold out forever. All this victory did was give false hope to an army that had none to cling to.

Surveying the smoking wrecks that dotted the evening landscape, Buquoy couldn't help but think that the smoldering corpses trapped within would have been living breathing people had he possessed the strength to do what had to be done. He hated himself for it. Their blood was on his hands as much as Cameron's, as much as the Magistrix's. But self-loathing couldn't change the past. He was committed the battle now. There was no redemption to be had, no salvation to be found, and absolutely no going back.


	5. Part V

**Part V**

_Carson__Valley_

_Dunianshire_

_Magistracy of __Canopus_

_March 15th, 2588_

Floral swore as the blue and white _Stinger_ ducked behind cover yet again and her LRMs plowed into empty ground. Other SLDF units did the same, drawing return fire from the Magistracy line before fading into the night. As soon as they had appeared the enemy units were gone again, vanishing into the valley's wooded terrain.

They had been doing it all night, making weak probes against the Magistracy emplacements before pulling back once more. She knew what Zhukov was up to; he was testing her lines, trying to find the weak link that he could best exploit. What frustrated her most was the waiting, the constant nibbling that Zhukov was content to limit himself to while he searched for an opening. Still, he must have learned his lesson earlier today, she thought with a grim smile. Rushing headlong into the fight wasn't going to win the battle for him this time.

All in all, things had gone well that day. The Magistracy had lost less than a battalion's worth of armor, and just two lances of 'Mechs in the battle. At the same time, they had killed or captured twice that number of Star League units before Zhukov had ordered a withdrawal. Admiral Carr and his second fleet had performed splendidly, harassing the SLDF's naval assets so that they couldn't support Zhukov's actions on the ground. Without that help, the battle surely would have met with disaster. But if everything kept going apace, Floral could see a light at the end of the tunnel. She had hope, and as long as there was hope, there was a chance of victory.

Her sensors suddenly beeped for her attention. She glanced down at the instrument panel to see that several large heat signatures were approaching the right flank.

She opened up her tactical frequency to the rest of her command lance, "Looks like they're preparing another probe. Lets mix things up a bit and shift to the right flank to give 'em a little something to think about."

They all clicked their acknowledgement and lumbered into motion. Floral kept her _Thunderbolt_ moving along the tree line, trying to obscure her movements as much as possible as she jockeyed for position along the northern flank.

Flares suddenly rocketed up from beyond the far tree line, spiraling upward into the sky. They went off with a loud bang, exploding over the sky in a brilliant display of light that turned the darkened night into day. The sight momentarily took Floral aback, briefly wondering what the hell they were doing launching flares during an exploratory probe. And then they came. Dozens of 'Mechs and armored vehicles emerged from their cover, charging toward the Magistracy flank.

Realization seized Floral. This was no recon force.

"Shift troops from the center to the right flank!" she shouted into her comm., "They're making their assault!"

She began to backpedal her _Thunderbolt_ just as a flight of LRMs slammed into one of the Magistracy tanks. The barrage shredded through armor into the tank's interior before the fuel tank exploded, showering the surrounding units with flaming debris.

Floral let go with her long range weapons, both laser and missiles flying wide of their mark. She still kept backing up, trying to find some cover as the enemy 'Mechs opened up on the MAF lines. All manner of ordinance filled the space between the two forces, muzzle flashes and laser fire lighting up the darkness as the Magistracy army attempted to return fire on the vanguard force.

More units went up to concentrated SLDF fire before reinforcements could shift from the center, but even then it wasn't enough to stem the tide.

Floral grimaced as her 'Mech was buffeted by swarm of SRMs that blasted into her left side. "All units, move to reinforce the right flank, they're about to break through!"

She turned back to the raging firefight, centering her aim on the _Commando_ that had closed within SRM range. She let loose with a combined volley of lasers and missiles, and the heat in her cockpit suddenly spiked. The torrent of fire reduced the _Commando_'s arms to slag, but still it came on. Then Colonel Buquoy's _Hunchback_ stepped into the fray, literally blasting the diminutive _Commando _to pieces with a well-placed shot to the center torso.

"Thanks Adam," Floral said breathlessly as she tried to line up a shot on an advancing _Catapult_.

"They're going to break through," he said, ignoring her thanks. "We can't shift up enough troops in time. It's going to be a rout if we don't pull back!"

"We _can't_ pull back!" she yelled, clamping down on the trigger to launch a volley of LRMs.

"It's going to be a slaughter!" he protested.

Floral ignored Buquoy's statement as she dodged to the side, lasers searing barely a meter overhead. Units on both sides exploded, illuminating the terrain in harsh shades of orange and yellow as the Magistracy forces attempted to realign themselves before coming SLDF tide. "Where are those reinforcements?" she yelled.

If there was a reply, it was lost in the jumble of panicked cries swarming over the communications net. She swore to herself as she desperately looked around the battlefield, hoping to find some way of to stem the deluge of enemy forces.

The SLDF troops were at the front line by now, blasting through what was left of the Magistracy flank with ease. Already her army was beginning to crumble. The battle looked as if it was quickly becoming a rout. That wasn't going to happen. She wouldn't let that happen.

"Damnit, we have to hold them!" she shouted desperately. "All troops forward, give 'em hell!"

She spurred her _Thunderbolt_ into a run and charged into the midst of the SLDF spearhead.

----------

Colonel Buquoy watched as the Magistrix rushed headlong into the enemy's waiting arms. The remaining Magistracy units followed suit, sometimes bodily throwing themselves into the SLDF line as the battle degenerated into melee. Floral fought like a woman possessed as she waded into battle with reckless abandon. Her _Thunderbolt_ brought its fist down on the cockpit canopy of an enemy _Catapult_, and the reinforced glass and steel buckled inward, crushing the pilot inside.

She had the _Thunderbolt_ moving before the other machine even hit the ground, setting her sights on an enemy _Hunchback_. She didn't even bother triggering her weapons as laser fire melted armor along her machine's chest. Before the enemy 'Mech could get out of the way, the _Thunderbolt_ slammed into the _Hunchback_ with a deafening clang. The force of the blow knocked the 'Mech backwards where it collapsed on its side. Floral followed up with a kick, then released a volley of laser fire that blew open the 'Mech's torso and detonated its ammunition stores. The resulting explosion blossomed upward, barely kissing the _Thunderbolt_'s armored hide before the Magistrix was already off again in search of another target.

But the rest of the Magistracy units didn't fare so well. A Magistracy _Shadowhawk_ pitched forward as its leg was kicked out from under it, and still another armored vehicle exploded as a barrage of fire blew apart its front side. More and more men died, men that Buquoy could have saved if he had followed through before.

He winced as a _Wasp_'s fusion engine went critical, nearly disintegrating the diminutive machine in the resulting explosion—another life gone.

He clenched down on the controls, cursing the Magistrix for her stubborn pride, cursing Cameron for his arrogance, and cursing himself most of all for his own cowardice. This was his fault. He could have stopped it.

He still could.

He looked to where the Magistrix's _Thunderbolt_ had engaged an enemy _Zeus_, backpedaling as the other machine sought to close the gap. It was Zhukov. It had to be. Even as he watched, the two behemoths traded shots at each other, blasting apart armor plating on both 'Mechs with each salvo.

He had a momentary urge to rush to her defense, to add his silent armaments to the cacophony of battle. But then another Magistracy vehicle went up in a fiery explosion, silhouetting the Magistrix and her quarry in its fiery light.

He made up his mind. He selected his autocannon twenty and centered his targeting reticule over the back of Floral's struggling 'Mech. A pang of guilt struck him as his finger settled over the trigger. This was his liege, his leader. He was about to betray the one person who trusted him the most.

A moment of indecisiveness seized him, but he angrily forced such thoughts away and clamped down on the trigger before he had a chance to change his mind again.

The staccato thump of discharging shells reverberated throughout his cockpit as the depleted uranium slugs blasted into the weak back armor of the Magistrix's _Thunderbolt_. It seemed as if everything froze in place for barely a moment before ravenous flames exploded outward from the Floral's BattleMech, hungrily consuming both flesh and steel as the conflagration devoured the 'Mech from inside out.

Both Magistracy and Star League units alike fell silent as the blackened hulk of a machine crashed to the ground. Silence reigned over the battlefield, broken only by the crackle of flames dancing along the _Thunderbolt_'s metallic corpse.

Gravely Buquoy reached down to select a wide-band channel on the communications net.

"This is Senior Colonel Adam Buquoy of the Magistracy Armed Forces. I hereby offer the formal surrender of the Magistracy of Canopus to First Lord Ian Cameron and the Star League.


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_Capital Square_

_Canopus__ IV_

_Magistracy of __Canopus_

_November 5th, 2588_

Colonel Adam Buquoy opened the door, shaking the water off of his rain-slicked coat before moving into the darkened apartment. He gave a weary sigh as he hung his raincoat on the rack by the door and headed for the living room. It had been a long day, and he simply wanted to relax.

He moved into the gloomy den, slipping into his easy chair with practiced familiarity. He bent forward toward the coffee table, fumbling a moment in the darkness before he seized the remote and flipped on the trideo. The entertainment system sprang to life, bathing the room in a flickering blue glow.

"Good evening, Colonel," a soft voice intoned.

Buquoy jumped, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the black clad man seated on the couch across from him. The colonel shot to his feet. "How did you get in here? Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Sit down," the intruder ordered coldly, moving aside the folds of his coat to reveal a pistol aimed directly at Buquoy's chest.

Buquoy swallowed hard and sank back into the easy chair. He licked his suddenly dry lips, "What is this about?"

"We hear you're getting along famously with your new overlords," said the man, pointedly ignoring Buquoy's question. "They gifted you with a new position, I understand. Military liaison officer to the Star League Occupation Force—so very catchy."

Buquoy stiffened, "They graciously offered me a position in the new government. I would have been a fool to decline the invitation."

"Why, so you can gobble up what scraps fall from Cameron's table? Is that why you turned your back on your nation? So you can feast on the leftovers of Cameron's Empire like a trained lap dog?"

"I did no such thing," Buquoy said defiantly. "I'm not a traitor."

"Whether you acknowledge the truth or not, I don't particularly care. It's not up to you. Your guilt has already been decided."

The man stood, leveling his weapon at Buquoy, "Senior Colonel Adam Buquoy," he said evenly, "you have been found guilty of high treason against your nation and your sworn liege. For this crime, you have been sentenced to death. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Buquoy shook his head frantically "No, it wasn't like that. I had to do it. I couldn't let the rest of our troops die needlessly."

"You killed the Magistrix."

"I had to. She was going to destroy us all. Those people would have followed her to hell and back if she asked them. As long as she was alive, they were as good as dead."

The man cocked his head to the side, "Don't you think that is a decision you should have left up to them?"

"They're still alive, aren't they?"

"At what cost? Cameron raped us of our freedom, our dignity. We're nothing more than slaves to that madman. Those soldiers would have rather died fighting than live in subservience. Can't you see that? Or is your opinion the only one that means a damn thing?"

"In this case, yes! I did the right thing, can't you see that?"

He sighed, "I'm tired of arguing with you."

"My surrender didn't change the eventual outcome of the war," he protested. "I saved hundreds of lives."

"And you murdered one."

Buquoy opened his mouth as if to protest, but stopped. "Yes. I did."

"Then you admit your crime," the figure stated evenly.

"I committed no crime, but I freely admit my deed. That much has never been in question."

The other man allowed himself a small smile, "Do I sense a flicker of courage? Perhaps you still know what honor is after all."

"I always have," Buquoy said evenly.

"Many would beg to differ, but I will not argue the point. I am here to offer you one last chance to redeem yourself, to willingly accept your punishment for the crimes you have committed and face the demise you denied the men and women under your command."

He reached inside his coat pocket and withdrew a small snub-nosed revolver. Bending forward, he lay it on the coffee table before Colonel Buquoy. "You have the opportunity to dole out your own punishment, to atone for the crime you have committed against your liege and your nation."

Buquoy glanced up at him, then back down to the revolver. He hesitantly reached down to pick up the weapon, slowly turning the pistol over in his palms. He slipped his hand around the grip, finger resting lightly on the trigger. "I did the right thing," he said softly.

"You have the opportunity to do the right thing now," the other man intoned.

Buquoy bit his lip and began to lift the weapon to his temple.

He suddenly stopped, lifting his eyes up at the figure before him. "No." He leveled the revolver at him and pulled the trigger.

The hammer snapped forward with a sharp click, and then nothing.

His executioner smiled, "Do you really think I'm stupid enough to give you a loaded gun?"

Buquoy could only stare in shocked disbelief.

"I just wanted to see what you would do. I wanted to see if you could face your demise with the same kind of courage Floral Centrella showed in the face of her own imminent destruction. For a minute there, I had hope for you, but sadly it wasn't meant to be."

"Killing me won't change anything," Buquoy stammered.

"No, but it will send a message," the figure breathed quietly. "It will tell all of the Inner Sphere that the Magistracy of Canopus will never forget. We may have been beaten, but our unconquerable spirit remains strong. Cameron cannot take away from us our inherent right to freedom. No one can.

"No Empire lasts forever. Eventually, the Star League will fall, and our people will rise up once again." He smiled cruelly, "I may never live to see that glorious day, but I know one thing for sure. You'll not live to see tomorrow."

He clamped down on the trigger, the hammer tripped forward, and this time the gun spoke.


End file.
